


soul you used to be

by GremlinGirl



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ableist Language, Age Difference, Assault, Autumn, Bottom!Ben, Classical Music, Depression, Dubious Consent, Friendship, Ghost Sex, Ghost Vision, Goth Fashion, Gun Violence, Haunted House, Homophobia, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Queerphobic Violence, Rumors, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, The Knights of Ren are a Dumb Group of Young Men Who Like to Drink and Fuck, This Is A Sad Story With A Sorta Happy Ending, Underage Drinking, Urban Legends, ghost story, homophobic violence, small town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 17:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20624465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GremlinGirl/pseuds/GremlinGirl
Summary: Living in a small town, Ben has heard all the gruesome tales of the old Hux house, which stands in the woods as a brooding reminder of the terrors that went on there. He doesn't believe in the urban legends surrounding the place, but when he meets the infamous spirit and becomes intimately acquainted with him, Ben begins a reckless cycle in dealing with the loss of his father. Sherman is home to many dark secrets, and Ben uncovers the truth of what happened, and his father's connection to the tragedy.





	soul you used to be

The smell of wet leaves was carried on the wind, and the long winding trail led deeper into the woods. Ben walked it with careful steps, avoiding holes and outstretched roots from the trees lining the path. Long strides led him off the beaten path, and he quickly cut through the foliage and into a clearing. A house sat, dark and brooding, a contrast against the navy sky. The sun was gone, but the light was still fading. Ben glanced about until he saw a group gathered around the short, brick wall that bordered the abandoned property. It was broken and cracked, parts having completely toppled over. No one had cared for anything on this land for at least a generation. 

As he neared the small group, Ben could smell the alcohol already, and he he sauntered his way in between them and turned to hop up on top of the wall. At just three feet high, it was a short jump, and he settled by crossing his legs. The group of guys all converged around him, and Ben leaned forward to pluck a can of beer from one of their hands. 

“You’re late,” Brandon teased, a hand going to Ben’s leg. He plucked at the fishnet tights he wore, then slowly moved up to the edge of his skirt which laid just over his knee. The solid black dress was a tight fit, with long sleeves made of a sheer. The back was cut out, leaving most of the skin bare and open to the brisk autumn wind that seemed as pervasive as the changing leaves. 

The boys that Ben liked to hang out with called themselves the Order of Ren. They were delinquents, known for their antics around the small, conservative town. Though, the vandalism, underage drinking, and heavy metal music weren’t as scandulous as the fact that each and every one of them was gay. Ben fit into that fairly well, going a step further with his gothic, feminine wardrobe choices. Mom called it an interesting phase, but she still bought him everything he wanted wear, let him get the nose ring, didn’t ask questions about where he went at night or when he stumbled home with liquor on his breath. As long as he was safe, she seemed satisfied. 

“I couldn’t decide on an outfit,” Ben said, his painted black lips pouting, then he took a drink of the beer. He hated the taste but wanted the buzz. “Who picked the old Hux house to come drinking at anyway?” he asked, turning his head to consider the archaic structure behind him. He remembered the old ghost stories people told to kids so they wouldn’t play out here, or go inside the place. Ben imagined it was mostly because the house was probably falling apart on the inside, more a danger in the physical sense than any sort of evil spirit. 

“It’s almost Halloween,” Brandon said, his hand still on Ben’s knee. He was the oldest of the group, the one that bought them alcohol and generally decided where they went. But he wasn’t a bully, like some people considered him as. He was just an outsider, and the rest of the Rens had flocked to him for that reason. Queerness and ostracization went hand in hand in a place like this. It was nice to find companionship, at the very least. “Thought we could go into the backyard where Old Mr. Hux supposedly buried the bodies and tell stories.” 

Ben smiled, then looked back at Brandon again. “You don’t really believe all of that,” he said, matter-of-factly. “And didn’t that Hux guy die when he was like, thirty-six. That’s not all that old to me.” There were many different forms the urban legend took, but only some pieces of it were true. A man named Armitage Hux had lived in the house, and he had died in the house back in the 1970s. Ben’s dad had lived in the town when he was around, and he’d said the man was unfriendly and stand-offish. There was a reason people assumed the worst of him, because he couldn’t be bothered to show even the tiniest amount of politeness to anybody. 

“It doesn’t matter what we believe,” Jarid chimed in, coming to lean on the wall beside Ben. “It’s about trying to make up the scariest, goriest story that we can. “I mean...look at the place and tell me it doesn’t unsettle you, just a little bit?” 

Ben took another swig of beer, then he sighed and flipped his hair over his shoulder before turning back to the house. It was a tall, greying structure. The wood in places was clearly rotting, and the corners were starting to sink and fall apart. The stairs leading up to the porch were mostly rotted away, some falling down into the yellowed grass under them. The wood looked clearly unsafe to even try to stand on. There had clearly been color on the door at one point, red that had faded into maroon and had chipped off due to the weathering. A double paned window on the second floor was still somehow intact, though the glass was covered in dust and grime. There seemed to be scratches or something on the outside, probably from animals or weather. If you looked hard enough, you could see there were yellowed curtains on the other side. 

Perhaps Jarid had a point, the house was creepy. It seemed like the kind of place that was perfect to set a ghost story in. Ben could see it in a haunted house movie, or as the cover of a book. But, despite its appearance, he just didn’t believe in ghosts. It didn’t seem logical to him. If ghosts were real, he felt like he would know about it. He felt like he’d have definitely seen one. One in particular. 

“Let’s go inside,” Ben said, and he looked back into five surprised faces. He finished the rest of the beer, then crushed up the can and tossed it behind himself. He picked his legs up over the wall and dropped down on the other side of it, feet sinking into the crisp grass below him. It was all dead, the lawn hadn’t been tended to in so long that new grass didn’t even grow anymore. ONe might expect there to be overgrown grasses up to his knees, but it seemed the very ground couldn’t breathe life into this place. 

“Ben, Ben!” They called to him as he walked up to the house, looking it over with a curious gaze. Turning around, he looked across at the group of boys all staring at him. 

“What?” he asked, then lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers in their direction. “Are you scared? Too scared to follow me? I’ll go by myself! There’s nothing in there, I promise.” 

Brandon was the first to move toward him. “Alright, yeah, that sounds better than sitting outside all night.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He turned on the flashlight feature and followed Ben up to the porch. Night was falling more completely now, and by the time they carefully climbed the rotting stairs, watching to not step anywhere a step was now missing. Slowly, in a trickle, the rest of the Rens followed after them. Ben stepped onto the porch first, and he grabbed the door handle and turned it. He almost expected it to be locked, but surprisingly, it clicked open and swung inwards. 

A musty smell enveloped them as they moved as a unit into the old house. More pulled their phones out and swept them around. The floorboards were rotting, and there was dusty furniture still inside. Some of it was covered by sheets, but others had been left exposed to the elements. In one corner, a grand piano sat, a thick film of dust layering it’s surface. Ben slowly walked toward it, looking around as the beams of flashlights cut through the piercing dark. The smell of decaying wood filled the air, and Ben could only be grateful that it wasn’t the same as dead animals. 

The old floorboards creaked under their footsteps as the Rens fanned out and began looking around. It really did look like no one had been in here for many, many years. An empty fireplace sat against the wall, and over it hung what had once been a painting. But something had torn it in half, and the canvas was mostly hanging down, shredded. Ben made a face as he swept his hand over the stool in front of the piano, then he sat down, despite the dust still there. Lifting the lid from atop the keys, he looked at the surprising cleanliness of them. Sitting up, he let his fingers ghost over the keys before he played a few notes. 

Ben stopped, his eyebrow raising as the notes faded from the air. A few of the boys glanced at him, so he shrugged at them. “It’s weird. Old piano like this...it should be all rusted and off-key. I would think it would have to be tuned to even play correctly, but...these notes sound fine.” He decided to test it more, and he began playing something from memory. 

Brandon and a few others slowly walked back over to gather around the piano and listen to him play. The swell of music was perfect and beautiful, and Ben wasn’t sure how. But he figured that maybe someone had come in here and messed with the piano recently. It wasn’t something to worry about. Brandon placed a hand on his back, and Ben smiled a little, fingers ghosting over his skin, down along the curve of his spine. 

A sudden crash from out of the room caused Ben to stumble, his fingers hitting the wrong note, and everyone’s heads whipped around toward the source of the sound. Ricki stood with one foot now through the bottom step of the stairs, and he carefully stepped back and yanked his foot free of the broken wood. 

“Are you okay?” Brandon asked, and Ricki nodded his head. 

“This place is a death trap, though,” he said, moving away from the stairs and over toward the couch which was covered in a sheet. Him and Clay pulled it off, and a cloud of dust came with it, pretty much filling up the room. 

With everyone coughing, Ben stood up and moved back up away from the couch, toward the door to get a breath of fresh air. As he walked, something cold moved up his back and stopped just at the base of his neck. A shudder followed it, and he stopped, turning around to see who was putting their cold hands on him. No one was near him, everyone moving to try and swipe at the dust cloud to get it to dissipate a bit. As Ben watched them, he felt the same cold tingle travel to his side and rest there for a moment. He froze up, staring at the empty place beside him for a moment, until he finally became aware of someone saying his name. 

“Ben? Ben? Benny?” 

“What?” He glanced over at Brandon, who was standing with his arms crossed. 

“You got us to come in here? What now?” 

The cold sensation vanished, leaving Ben to wonder honestly if he’d ever felt it at all. Maybe the atmosphere of the place was getting to him, too. Looking around at the Rens, their faces all looking to him for ideas, he had to think of something fast. “Well, you guys wanted to tell creepy stories. Let’s do that. And when that gets boring, we can do something else.” 

“When?” Clay grinned at him, his lip rings making the gesture look almost malicious. But Ben knew better than that. “You sound pretty certain that we won’t have a good time.” 

Ben shrugged. “Well, we’re not twelve years old, you know? I figure it’s hard to scare us now. If your ugly mug isn’t enough to give me nightmares, I doubt your stories are, either.” 

A chorus of “oohs” and hisses rose up, and Clay met the challenging words by puffing out his chest. “Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got the real, true story of the old man Hux, and it’s the story that no one wants anyone to know. Because it’s not scary; it’s horrifying.” 

“Prove it,” Ben said, and Brandon reached over to grab his hand, tugging him over. Clay and two others sat down on the couch, Ricki straddling the arm and pointing his flashlight toward the center of the circle that was slowly forming. Someone dropped the rest of the six pack of beers in the middle of the circle and a few helped themselves. Brandon sat on the ground and Ben settled in his lap, enjoying the hand that slid up and down along his calf, stopping each time at the knee. 

Clay made quick work in getting to his story as soon as everyone was settled. 

“Everyone knows that Old Man Hux was a bastard and an unfriendly son of a bitch,” he said, grinning as he wove the tale. “And everyone’s got a different reason why. Some say he was just plain old crazy. Others think that he was hiding kidnapped kids from the town inside this very house, and he didn’t want anyone coming over for a visit because they thought he was a normal guy.” 

“Well, if that’s true, what did he do with the kids?” Sam asked, propping himself up against Jarid who was right beside him. 

“They say in the weeks before his death, he dug up multiple parts of the backyard, so people say he killed them all and put them in the ground. But that’s not why he was really digging out there, you know? That’s just what people say. It’s actually a lot worse than that.” 

“Worse than a bunch of kidnapped and murdered kids?” Ben asked. 

“Fucking yeah, it was worse!” Clay threw his hands up. “Hey, you don’t wanna know the truth, then maybe I won’t actually tell you. Seems like you’ve got nearly everything about this figured out already.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “No, no, keep going.” He smiled and leaned his head against Brandon’s shoulder. 

“Well, one day a bunch of men from town came out here, thinking there was something creepy going on, and they found the door propped wide open. They said when they came in, the piano was playing, but no one was actually sitting at it. And from the bannister, right up there, Old Man Hux was hanging by a rope.” Clay pointed, and everyone glanced to the bannister above them. Ben peered at the second floor landing for a moment, even as everyone else tuned back into the story. He blinked when he thought he saw something move, just a shadow. Shaking his head, Ben looked back at Clay again. 

“The walls were covered in blood, but it wasn’t Old Man Hux’s blood. And they went through the house and found a bunch of body parts all chopped up and stored in the freezer, and there was a meal on the table made completely of human flesh.” Clay looked around the circle. “They say he’d go into town and talk to people around our age and coax them back to the house. Then he’d chop them up and eat them. But what’s even worse, they found out later that he’d sold a bunch of meat to the local butcher shop, so the whole town actually ate human meat sometimes, too.” 

Ben shook his head. “Yeah, right. That sounds like something out of a horror movie,” he said. 

“Yeah, but it’s all true.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Cuz, my grandfather was there. He was one of them men who found Old Man Hux hanging from the bannister.” Clay shrugged. “My dad told me all about it.” 

Ben rolled his eyes. “Bullshit,” he said. “He spun you a story just like everyone’s parents did, anything that would keep us from coming out to this old place.” He glanced around for a moment, imagining if that had been true. If there had ever really been blood staining the walls around them. He figured they’d still see what was left, but there was nothing but faded and peeling wallpaper. 

“How do you know?” Jarid asked. 

“Because. My dad told me that he knew Hux. Or, knew him better than most people anyway, which still wasn’t a lot.” Ben smiled as Brandon moved his hand up to his knee and let it rest there. Everyone had glanced away at the mention of his dad, and he tried to pretend that he didn’t notice. “You know, I get that people like to make up scary stories about the man, but...he was just a lonely outsider. Like all of us were before we found each other.” He looked around at each of the faces around the circle. “He was just a guy who was troubled and sad, and that’s probably why he killed himself, not because he was a cannibal, or a child murderer. There’s no proof of any of that.” 

“Not as fun of a story, though,” Sam said, and he sounded glum. 

Ben shrugged. “No, I guess not….” 

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the house as it creaked, the old wooden innards settling and shifting. There were probably a million drafts that slipped through the wooden walls. Probably why Ben had felt a chill earlier. His dress probably hadn’t been the best choice for a trek through the woods and a stay in the most famous haunted house in Sherman. 

Above them, something thudded heavily on the second floor, and everyone looked up at the same time. Ben grinned, thinking it was some animal, and he quickly stood up off Brandon’s lap and headed around toward the stairs. “Come on, guys,” he called, needing the boys and their phones to help guide him up. He saw the bright beams lighting up the dark expanse in front of him, and he deftly avoided stepping through the hole Ricki had made earlier. 

Brandon was a few steps behind him, and it seemed Sam and Clay were absolutely refusing to go up. Ricki kept cursing under his breath as they walked further up the stairs to the second floor. Ben walked out onto the landing, and he glanced down, squinting to see Sam and Clay with their lights pointed downwards as they whispered to each other. “Scaredy cats!” he called, making them both jump. Ben laughed, then turned and began looking around for the source of the sound. 

Brandon walked up behind him, and Ben felt a hand inching along the back of his thigh. “You’re being cruel,” he whispered, low, and Ben smirked and shook his head. “Yes, you are. You like getting a reaction out of people, and you pick the easiest targets to do so. Come on, I think the sound came from this way.” He patted Ben on the ass, then turned to walk away. Ben followed. It seemed Ricki had taken the hint and had gone the opposite direction. 

Pushing through a door, they entered a bedroom. It was somehow even more musty and gross than the rest of the house, and Ben didn’t even want to touch the bed, which seemed to have been a magnet for every moth and spider in Sherman for the last forty years. There was no quilt or comforter, but the sheets and mattress had holes chewed in them, and there were springs and stuffing sticking through and littering the ground around it. The headboard was a dark wood with ornate patterns. Ben thought it had probably looked beautiful in its heyday, but now the entire thing was covered in cobwebs. 

Luckily, Brandon seemed as unenthusiastic about the bed as he was, and they ended up against the wall instead. Ben let out a short moan as a hand tangled in his hair. His phone was slipped into his pocket, and they were in total darkness suddenly. He felt lips on his neck, and Ben allowed this as he began tugging at his belt, getting it unbuckled and removed from a few loops. The hands on his hips that suddenly turned him around and slammed him flat against the wall were a welcome, rough surprise. “Fuck,” he said, breathlessly, and his dress was hiked up over his hips. If the others were smart, they’d all be hooking up now, too, but Brandon wanted him tonight, clearly. It wasn’t a normal relationship they all had, not even a friendship. They all fucked regularly, but Brandon always got to pick who he wanted to have. And for awhile, Ben had been at the top of his list. It was nice to be wanted so much. 

He felt fingers in the waistband of his tights, felt them tugged downward, around his knees, then two hands gripped his ass, body molding against his and the back of his neck was kissed quite roughly. Teeth dug into the skin, and he moaned in reply, arching his back and attempting to grind himself against the still clothed erection that bumped against him. He whimpered and bit at his lip as his panties were then dispatched, and the cool air licked over his ass and his cock. It felt almost too good to be true. “P-please,” he found himself stuttering, needing. 

However, their illicit actions came to a screeching halt when the piano downstairs suddenly began to play. It was a song that Ben knew well, the one he’d played earlier, Totentanz or the Dance of the Dead by Franz Liszt. The problem was, no one but him could play the piano that was in the house with them. It was odd to hear the music, but it took a moment for the passionate heat to fade for the creepiness to settle in. “Someone else is here,” Ben said, thinking someone had wandered in and realized they were there, wanting to scare them. 

Brandon pulled out his phone, lighting up the room again, and he grunted in annoyance and fiddled with his belt with one hand as he marched out of the room. Ben tugged up his panties and tights, then went after him. He stopped on the landing, looking down at the front sitting room. He had a good view, and he could see the piano keys moving. No one sat there. Brandon thudded his way down the stairs, making Ben flinch. He thought of how rickety each step sounded, and he wondered how much more abuse the rotting wood could take. Ricki suddenly emerged from the other room, and he headed down after Brandon. Sam and Clay appeared, disheveled, and everyone’s eyes were on the piano. It suddenly stopped playing. Silence reigned. 

A sudden, cold gust of wind blew Ben’s hair back, and he gapped, mouth open wide. The front door suddenly flew open wide. He heard Sam screaming, but Ben felt frozen in fear. All of his big talk, out the window, and the Rens were running out the door and into the night. Ben finally snapped out of it when he saw Brandon’s retreating back, out the door in a second. Coming to his senses, he started quickly down the stairs. 

Nearly halfway down, his fear came true. The wood buckled beneath him, and his foot went through the step. He sprawled across the stairs, yelping in pain as the broken pieces of wood dug into his ankle. Shifting around, he wriggled his leg, trying to get it around the shards. He dragged it through eventually, his tights tearing, and he blinked through the darkness to see a cut running along it. Standing up again, he hobbled the rest of the way down the stairs, clinging to the bannister as he limped along. 

“Guys!” He looked out the doorway as he got to the bottom of the steps, and he started toward it, looking out to see if he could spot any of the Rens loitering in the front yard and waiting on him. He saw no one. “Brandon! Clay!” He headed to the door, but it suddenly swung shut in front of his face, leaving him to fall down against it, grab the handle. “Ricki! Sam! Brandon! Someone!” He twisted the handle, but it wouldn’t move. It seemed stuck somehow, and it was getting harder and harder to stand on his leg. 

Moving back, he looked around the bottom floor for a window, but he already knew there wasn’t one. The only window in the whole damn house was on the second floor, and Ben wasn’t sure he could make it back up the stairs. And even then, he couldn’t just fling himself from it and hope for the best. The piano suddenly started playing again, and Ben backed up until his legs hit the couch, and he sunk down onto it. He watched the piano with a terrified expression, listening to the music swell. His throat had swollen shut with fright, body trembling. 

A sudden lull in the music made him relax a bit, and the piano went quiet again. He glanced about the room, then jerked in surprise when the light suddenly illuminated the room. He turned his head and found a log in the fireplace which had not been there before was now ablaze. Warmth and light emanated from it. 

It took much courage for him to speak, but Ben finally found the words. “Mr...Mr. Hux. You’re...you’re Mr. Hux, right?” He looked around, not wanting to think of the consequences of talking to a ghost. Or the reality of it. He didn’t have another explanation, but it was hard to stomach. He pressed on. “I’m...real, real sorry that we came in your house like this,” he said, thinking an apology would help. 

The piano suddenly started up again, and Ben clammed up. He stared at it, wondering why the ghost kept playing. It was a different song this time, he realized. “Dans Macabre?” he asked, softly, and the playing got a bit more certain. Ben wrapped an arm around his middle as he stood up and began limping across the room. He walked around the piano and looked at the stool. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see, but nothing was there. Or...there was someone there, he just couldn’t see them. 

The playing paused, and he heard two dull thumps against the wooden stool, and Ben balked. Was it an invitation to sit down? He slowly did so, sitting to the far right, hopefully away from the ghost. The playing recommenced, and Ben wrapped his arms around himself and listened. The ghost, Mr. Hux, he was a talented player. That was for certain. 

Ben watched the keys seemingly play themselves, his eyes following each note which was executed with perfect precision. He swallowed a little, then turned his head to the other side, where he imagined the ghost was sitting. If he could sit. Ben wasn’t sure how corporeal the ghost was. “My leg is really hurt,” he said, softly, and the music abruptly stopped. “I need to go. I need to wrap it up in bandages or something, maybe get some of that cream that stops it from getting infected. And besides, my mom is going to be worried about me if I don’t get home before morning.” 

There was no response, of course, and Ben felt a bit of that cold chill up his back again. He looked around, needing something to communicate with, and he finally looked to the piano in front of him. “Okay, we need someway to talk, so...I’ll ask questions, and you can answer with this.” He reached out and played a note. “This for yes, and,” he played another, “this for no?” 

Ben removed his hands from the keys, and he heard the key for yes play, and he smiled a little. “Okay, that’s good. Um. You are Mr. Hux, right? Armitage Hux?” 

_Yes._

“And...you scared my friends off…” 

_ Yes.  _

“I guess I can’t ask you why. Um, are you trying to keep me here for some reason?” 

_ Yes.  _

Ben frowned a little bit, and he felt fear beginning to rise in his gut again. “Are you going to kill me and make me a ghost, too? Is that what you want?” 

_ No. No. No. No. No.  _

“Okay, okay…” That was a relief, and he sighed audibly. “What do you want me for, then?” 

He didn’t expect the ghostly chill up his back again, and Ben leaned back as he felt pressure between his thighs, actually pushing them apart somewhat. So shocked, he fell backwards off the stool, shaking all over as he crawled backwards against the wall, wincing whenever he had to put pressure on his injured ankle. “Oh…” He breathed heavily, looking around as if he could spot the elusive spirit. “So you’re a gay ghost?” he asked. 

_Yes._ The note held for a long few seconds before fading out. 

Ben slowly pulled himself up to his feet, and he hobbled back over to the stool. Sitting down, he held onto his dress and pressed his thighs together. “Can I call you Armitage?” he asked, and there was no answer for a moment. Finally, a no, and he nodded. “Hux, then. I’ll call you Hux.” 

_ Yes.  _

Ben reached up, stroking his fingers through his hair as he gathered his next words. “Are the stories about you at all true? I-I never thought they were.”

_ No.  _

“Well, that’s a relief, at least.” He furrowed his brow. “Did you kill yourself?

_ No.  _

Ben could feel the cold at his back, and he tried to ignore the feeling instead of violently shivering. It was odd to know that something dead was hovering so close to him. He supposed that’s why Hux was cold, cold as death. He felt bad for Hux, honestly, since he didn’t kill himself. Ben didn’t figure a ghost had any reason to lie. 

His dress was held by several hooks that clipped together, and Ben let out a surprised bleat when they began popping open one by one. The tight fabric loosened, and he could almost swear he felt hands pushing the sleeves from off his shoulders. For some reason, he helped and pulled his sleeves all the way off. Sitting there with his dress pooled around his hips, Ben shivered as ghostly carrasses moved up and down his spine. 

The feeling coalesced until he could almost make out the shape of a body pressing against his back, arms around his middle, a hand sliding up his chest. Ben tipped his head back, moaning, and he felt a sharp pain in his neck, nails scraping his side. His thighs spread as the hand slipped between them, and Ben gripped at the edge of the stool as he was felt up by a ghostly hand. 

“Ah-Ah,” he muttered, gasping breaths making his chest rise and fall in quick succession. Goosebumps raised along his skin, the cold pervading the air around him, and Ben melted into the feeling. His rational brain had shut off, especially as the ghost turned his body and laid him out across the stool. He balanced himself, one leg on either side of the stool, and he watched his dress be pushed up, his tights pulled downward. 

It didn’t take the ghost long to strip him from the waist down, and Ben found the cold, silent hands on his cock were tantalizing and overbearing all at once. His leg was pushed up, and his heel landed on the keys with discordant notes ringing through the air. “Hux,” he muttered, eyes blown wide, and a digit slowly pressed inside him. His lips pulled back over his teeth as he hissed, and he felt a sharp pain on his inner thigh. Teeth biting down on his flesh while he was penetrated with a single finger. 

He could feel the body hovering over his own, but at the same time, there was no weight to him, no physicality. Ben lifted his hands to try and find the ghost, to hold onto him, but there was nothing solid to cling to. Still, he could feel fingers inside him, as if they were coming from a person, except they were as cold as death. Ben gasped when his prostate was brushed, and he could swear he heard a chuckle. Though, his brain wasn’t fully focused, and it could be the silence playing tricks on him. 

The fingers were removed from him, and Ben groaned as he leg was firmly pushed further up. The piano keys clattered as his heel scraped along them. Just as cold as the rest, the ghostly cock which shoved inside him sent chills up Ben’s spine. He yelled out in pleasure, body rocking as the ghost fucked him. Random notes played as his heel bounced across the keys, and he could feel teeth digging into his shoulder. 

Grasping at air, Ben whined, needing something to grab onto. He threw his hands up, digging nails into his own scalp and tugging on his hair. The stool rocked back and forth as he spread his legs obscenely. Back arching into cold breath as it blew over his nipples. He was fully erect, the cock inside him fuller and thicker than any of his friends. “Fuck,” he whispered, under his breath, hardly able to gather the strength to speak at all as his energy and will were fucked out of him. 

The fire crackled in the corner, but it’s warmth couldn’t seem to touch him. The intense, ghostly chill which fell over him had Ben shivering even as his body was speared open. He felt the cut of nails digging into his hips, and for a blessed moment, the tip of the cock inside him pressed hard into his prostate. Then, it was gone, almost as fast as it had been there, and he was left with nothing. His foot fell off the piano, and he sat up, glancing around the room. His muscles ached, and his cock was still throbbing. 

Suddenly, the hands were back, grabbing him up by the arms, and a chill went through his entire body. Ben was manhandled across the room and thrown flat on the couch, and he felt a real weight press him down into it this time. The fabric was dusty and smelled of damp decay, and he found his face mashed into it as he was penetrated again. Moaning, he reached up and dug his nails into the arm of the couch, spreading his legs as Hux set a hard pace. 

His hair was grabbed, pulled, and Ben held onto the couch as he was fucked. He heard something, in his ear, a panting. Short, heavy breaths. Did ghosts need to breathe? As if to confirm that the ghost was at his ear, he felt a cold, wet tongue trace the shell. “Do you like it?” 

The words made him freeze, body stilling as his eyes flew wide. The voice sounded faraway, as if it were shouting at him from the opposite end of a tunnel, but the words were clear. He swallowed, then turned his head slowly. “Yes,” he answered, then let his eyes roll back in his head as Hux aimed and struck his prostate again. “Fuck, yes.” 

“Pretty boy…” The words were whispered, airy, and Ben smiled. He found his head pushed down again, the ghost getting rougher with him, nails biting into his hip again. He started rutting his hips against the couch, not even caring about the musty state of things anymore. He spilled onto the cushions, and a moment later, something cold began to coat his insides. He didn’t know why he’d expected the ghost’s cum to be warm, but it wasn’t, and he shivered as Hux emptied into him before pulling out. 

Ben hissed as he was exited, his ass clenching around the cold air. But he could finally feel the fire again. The ghost seemed to have vacated the space over him, so Ben sat up and turned his body toward the flames, shivering as he rubbed his arms and tried to warm up. His clothes had been discarded on the dirty floor by the piano, but he didn’t yet rise to retrieve them. 

“Hux?” he asked, wondering where the ghostly presence had went. If he had gotten what he wanted and was now gone, dormant somewhere else in the house. He bit his lip, uncertain. He still wasn’t sure if he had actually heard words, or if his mind had been playing tricks on him. However, the cold cum leaking from his used hole and onto the couch under him wasn’t a trick of the mind or a hallucination. He stood up, slowly walking to grab his panties, which he pulled on quickly. He didn’t bother with the tights as he picked up the dress, letting out a grumble of complaint when he noticed some of the hooks at the back had been ripped with the ghost undressed him. 

He would still have to walk back in it, so he pulled it on over his head and slipped his arms through the sleeves. He reached back and did up the few hooks that still remained, but even more of his back was exposed. 

“Leaving so soon?” 

He jerked in surprise, hearing the words before he felt the chill settle over him again. “You can’t sneak up on me like that,” he said, turning in a circle to try and see if he could...well, see anything. But the ghost was just as invisible as before. “And, uh...I have to get home. Before my mom starts to worry.” 

The chill vanished, and he turned in a circle again. He blinked, eyes going to the fireplace. The log had stopped burning, and the light was sapped quickly from the room. He jumped in surprise again when the front door swung open, and he could hear the sounds of crickets from outside. He took a few steps toward the door, then paused. “Hux? What happened to you? If you didn’t kill yourself?” 

There was no answer, and Ben could only wait so long. The dark and brooding house was silent as he left it, and he carefully headed down the steps. His ankle was killing him, but he supposed he should have been more careful. He put on his shoes before entering into the forest for home, though he turned and got one more look at the house through the trees. The moon was only a crescent, and he couldn’t make out much detail. But as he peered up at the second story window, he could see something fluttering. The curtain moved aside and something peered out at him. Ben turned away and headed for home. 

* * *

  
  


“You’ve been quiet the last few days, Ben.” 

“Hm.” Ben stared into the bowl of soup in front of him, stirring it with an absent look on his face. He blinked in surprise when a hand waved in front of his face, and he finally looked up at his mother. “What?” 

“I said, you’ve been quiet the last few days. What’s on your mind?” 

“Oh.” Ben couldn’t begin to tell his mom about what had gone on the past weekend, and he didn’t really even plan to. But he had to come up with something, or else she was going to get suspicious. “I went out with my friends, and...well, they were telling stories about the old Hux legend again. It gets on my nerves. No one knows what really happened out there, you know?” 

His mom gave him a tight smile, nodding her head. “Yes, that’s right. No one knows. You didn’t go out to that place, did you?” 

Ben had trouble lying to his mother, even with some of the worst stuff he’d gotten up to. “We went and looked at it,” he said, deciding to admit to that much. “But we didn’t even really get close to it. The house is creepy, you know? But I think telling made up stories about the guy who lived there isn’t fair. He was a real person, not a movie villain.” And maybe he had a personal stake in it now. After. He wasn’t sure what had actually transpired between them, if it could really be considered sex. He doubted the ghost wanted a relationship with him. That would be weird. But, if it wasn’t sex, then it was the closet thing possible to it. He had ached for days, so he knew it hadn’t been some elaborate hallucination. And that was besides the cum-stains in his panties he found when he got home. 

“I don’t want you going out there anymore,” Leia said, and Ben looked up at her. She had stood and was clearing away the table, piling their used plates and bowls into her arms so that she could take them to the sink. 

“Why not? It’s not dangerous unless I go inside.” He thought about the bandage on his ankle right now, how he had to wear pants for a few days to cover it up. 

“Just...that place. It’s not some morbid tourist trap for you and your friends to go to. I think you should respect the fact that someone died there. All you local kids should.” 

Ben watched his mother, then stood up and helped her gather the rest of the dishes. “You talk about it like someone who’s lived here all your life, but you haven’t,” he said, setting everything down into the sink. He backed up against the counter as she turned the water on to heat. 

“Your father told me stories about the place. I guess I’ve internalized them.” She picked up a plate and started scrubbing at it vigorously. “It’s this damn town. The whole place feels cursed, like there’s bad blood everywhere you look. Everyone I know here has issues with someone, and the gossip is the meanest and most vindictive of anywhere I’ve ever lived.” 

“Do you hate him? For bringing you to live here?” 

Leia stopped, and she turned her head and brushed some hair off her cheek. “What?” 

“Do you hate Dad? Are you mad at him, because he decided to move back here and you had to come with him?” Ben scraped his foot against the tiled floor. “You’ve always hated it here, and I honestly don't know why we’ve stayed this long.” 

“Ben...no, no. Of course not, honey.” She reached for a hand towel to dry her hands, turning toward him and shaking her head. “Baby, your dad had a lot of issues with this place, but it was his home, too. He was born and raised in Sherman, and I think he left a piece here when he left. He was always going to come back, and he just happened to get a job out here. And I was pregnant with you, and we needed the money. But, no, I’ve never hated him. If it had ever gotten that bad, I would have taken you and left.” 

Ben looked down, his lower lip quivering a bit. “I miss him so much,” he said, breathing softly through his nose. 

“I know, baby. I miss him, too.” His mother reached out and gently pulled him down into a hug, cradling his head against her chest. Ben had to awkwardly bend over at the waist due to their height difference, but he didn’t even care. He wrapped his arms around his mom’s waist and clung to her while she stroked his hair. 

Sniffling, Ben cuddled closer to her, shutting his eyes tightly. “I’m lucky,” he said, softly. “I’ve got you. Not everyone has a parent like you.” 

“Shh. I’m just doing my job, baby.” She kissed the top of his head. 

He nodded, slowly pulling away. Wiping his eyes, Ben gave a bit of a smile. “I...I think I’m going to go out with Brandon and the others again tonight. We’re just going to go down and get milkshakes at the diner, though. I’ll be back home soon.” 

“Alright,” Leia said, turning back to the sink. “Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out. And take a jacket! It’s getting cold and I saw what you went out in last time.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ben said, and he turned to hurry upstairs. He took the bandage off his ankle first, tossing it into the garbage in his room. He didn’t really need it anymore. His ankle didn’t hurt that much, and all the cuts had at least scabbed over. He put on a skirt and a pair of boots, then pulled a black peacoat over the top of it to keep his mom happy. Of course, Ben didn’t actually plan on going to the diner. He was going back to the Hux house. 

* * *

It was a long walk, but Ben went all the way out there again. He continued to get lost in his thoughts as he walked, thinking about his dad, about this town, about what his mom said about bad blood. He wondered exactly what had happened to Hux when he’d been alive, if he hadn’t committed suicide. He’d tried the library, like this was a damn eighties movie, but he couldn’t find anything but an article about Hux being found hanging by the police chief. If all felt very…coverup conspiracy. 

As Ben walked through the woods, he found himself glad that his mom had insisted that he wear a jacket, because there was a brisk wind picking up, and if was whipping his skirt around his legs wildly. It was cold out. He crunches through the autumn leaves that carpeted the ground, finally walking out from the trail and toward the house which stood like a shadow against the backdrop of the graying sky. As he walked up the steps, Ben turned at the sound of thunder in the distance. 

Watching the sky, he now noticed the clouds swirling in, but he didn’t want to turn back now that he’d already walked all the way out here. He continued up the steps, and reached for the door handle. Before he even touched it, the door swung inward with a loud creak. 

“Hey…” he greeted upon entry into the house. Looking around, he considered the place curiously. It was no different than when he’d last been there. As he walked into the sitting room, the fireplace lit up white suddenly, bathing the room in a warm glow. The door slammed shut, making him flinch slightly. “Hmm...are you going to talk to me again, tonight?” 

Another flash of light caught Ben’s eye, and he turned to notice a lit candle sitting atop the piano. He walked over and picked up the candlestick curiously. The stairs creaked, and Ben turned again, and he heard very deliberate thumping footsteps going up the steps. Sighing, Ben came to the foot of the stairs and looked up. “You’re really going to make me go up there?” he asked, wondering why Hux would want him to. 

After a moment, Ben ascended the stairs. He was careful on each step, worried about hurting himself again, possibly worse this time. He got to the second floor and breathed a sigh of relief. Down the hallway, a door swung open, and Ben went into what appeared to be an office of some sort. There was a desk, covered in dust, a cabinet with a lock on it. The lock came undone and fell onto the floor, leaving Ben to stare at it. He walked over and opened the top drawer, looking inside to find...music books. 

There were books full of sheet music, simplistic songs. He recognized them from his earliest classes when he’d just started taking piano. They were clearly for new students, not the obviously gifted Hux. Ben knew that he wouldn’t have had to touch books like these since he was a child, probably. Ben didn’t figure he’d taught himself to play after he was dead already. Ben flipped through the books, and there was sheet music for more advanced pieces in the very back of the drawer. 

The second draw suddenly shot open, and he almost dropped the candle in surprise. He bent down to his knees, shoving the first drawer shut, and he picked up a large binder-like book from inside. He flipped it open, a puff of dust accompanying it, and he coughed unhappily. Holding the candle so he could see, he looked at what was clearly a photo album. In each photo, a man in his late thirties stood next to a child of varying ages. Underneath each photo was a name and a picture. John Simon, 1969. Abigail McMan, 1972. Lilly Smith, 1973. 

Ben flipped through the pages, seeing some children were pictured twice or three times as they grew up. Each picture was taken in front of the grand piano downstairs. The kids looked happy. Hux, and Ben could only assume it was Hux, looked severe, but pleased at the same time. He had a respectable energy to him, in the way he held himself. Ben came to the last page of the album and there was only one photo. Han Solo, 1975. 

He stared in surprise at the photo. It was his dad. He’d seen pictures of him when he was a kid. He was standing next to Hux with a huge grin on his face, and he was holding something in his hands. Ben moved the candle closer and squinted to read the words. It was a certificate of some kind, announcing he’d completed a year of classical piano training. 

“You...you were a teacher?” Ben asked, sitting up and looking around the dark, dank room. He laid the photo album in his lap, rubbing at his face. “These...they were all your students. So...what does this have to do with anything? Why did you show me this? Did...did you know that Han Solo was my father?” 

The book in his lap suddenly slammed shut, and he felt a cold puff of breath on his ear. The candle flickered, the flame weak on top of the wick. “Yes,” the ghostly voice answered him, and Ben’s eyes widened. “After you left, I realized.” 

Ben slowly slipped the album back into the drawer, then he closed it and stood up. “I...don’t know what you want me to say. Or do. Does you being a teacher have something to do with how you died?” 

“Yes.” 

Ben listened as thumps on the wood floor headed to the door, and he followed slowly, back out into the hallway again. Hux led him down to the large windows at the end of the hallway. The curtains suddenly flew back, and a flash of light lit up the whole area. Ben squeezed his eyes shut, shielding them from the brightness. When he opened them again, it was bright. Warm. Sunlight filtered through the window. The house around him smelled nice, the trees outside were green and leafy. He watched as a group of men walked through the carefully tended lawn and up onto the porch. He heard them banging on the front door, shouting. Ben’s heart was racing. 

He hurried back through the house and went to the second story landing, looking down. Hux was standing at the piano, and Ben could see a boy sitting there. It was...his dad. But he was a child. He was concentrating hard, but the barrage of knocks on the door disturbed them both. 

Hux told him to be quiet, then he walked to the door. Ben watched as his dad, Han, suddenly got up and crawled under the piano. He was scared, shaking all over, like he knew something terrible was going to happen. Hux flung the front door open, and all four men rushed in at him. They didn’t even ask questions before the punches began to fly. 

“You filthy queer! What have you been doing with our kids?” 

“Get down! Stay down!” 

“We know what you are, pedophile!” 

Ben covered his hands with his mouth as he watched the men hold Hux to the ground and kick him over and over. He heard Hux begging for them to stop, but they were relentless. He gasped as one grabbed a rope and wrapped a noose around his neck. He was dragged by the neck up the stairs, and the rope was tied to the bannister. 

“No!” Ben shouted, watching as he was suddenly thrown over, and the rope went taut. The men hurried out after that, never noticing the child watching from under the piano. Ben watched Han crawl out from under the piano a few minutes later, and he ran out of the door, sobbing. Another bright flash of light brought Ben back to the present, lightning cracking open the sky. He turned away from the window, looking back down the hallway again. The hand holding the candle shook, making the light flicker and shadows dance along the walls. He felt sick to his stomach. 

He walked carefully down the hallway, until another door opened, and he found himself inside the bedroom. He walked in, noticing the immediate chill in the room. Hux was there. Ben could feel him. He still avoided that moth and mite ridden bed like the plague, but Ben stepped further into the room and leaned up against the wall. “They killed you for being gay?” 

“Yes.” The bed dipped, and Ben stared at the spot. “Back then...I don’t know if it is the same now, but they believed that I was a predator. Because I enjoyed the company of men.” 

“Enjoyed the company, huh?” Ben glanced away, bit his lip. “You could just say you like fucking men, you know? Enjoying the company sounds like you died in 1870.” 

He heard a chuckle, and that brought a smile to his face. He didn’t really want to sit on the bed, but he slowly moved over anyway. He sat on the very end, making a face as he crossed his legs and reached across the bed. He wished that he could hold Hux’s hand, comfort him or something. Ben wasn’t very good at that. “Why didn’t any of the men...get caught? Why does no one know that this happened?” 

“One of the men who came here was Sheriff McMan. I taught his daughter and his son. He had a personal stake in seeing me dead.” He was quiet, and Ben glanced around the surface of the bed. He desperately wished he could see the man instead of just hearing him. “I swear I never hurt a child.” 

“I know...I know. I saw the pictures. Those kids...they looked like they loved you, even though you seemed a bit...humouless.” Ben crossed his arms and glanced down at the floor. “If you had hurt them, they wouldn’t have trusted you like that.” They lapsed into quiet once again, and Ben reached over to lay the candle down on a small table near the foot of the bed. “My father...Han Solo, you um...he never said anything about this to anyone.” 

“He was a child. Could hardly be blamed for being terrified. I was...surprised when you left, and I realized that I recognized your features from somewhere. I had thought he would get as far from this town as he possibly could have. I know I should have before it was too late.” 

“Why didn’t you leave?” 

“Ah, there’s the rub, isn’t it? I would have been leaving everything behind. My job, my home, my students. And I’ve always preferred the solitude of small towns to large cities. It’s sad that I probably would have been safer in New York City than here. I would have at least been able to find a community there.” 

Ben could almost cry, he felt so bad for Hux. The man hadn’t done anything wrong, had been killed for something he couldn’t control. “My mom wants me to leave as soon as possible. I applied to a bunch of different colleges all over the country, but…” 

“But what?” 

“This town is all I’ve ever known.” Ben shrugged. “I was born here, raised here. I’ve never even been on a vacation.” He drew his legs up onto the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest. “How do I know that the rest of the world isn’t just as unkind as this place is? How do I know that it’ll be any better anywhere else?” 

Hux didn’t answer him. He felt a gentle, cool touch to the back of his neck. It slid down over his coat, like fingers moving along his body. The cold sank through the layers and invaded his skin anyway. Ben tilted his head back, and he moaned when lips touched under his ear. Moving long, upwards, he could feel ghostly breath tickling against his skin. He felt Hux’s teeth on him again, on the shell of his ear. 

“Fuck, you don’t have an answer, so you just try to seduce me again?” 

“I don’t know, Ben. I don’t have answers for you. I know that there's more to life than this town, though. You should go out and live it.” 

Ben bit his lip, his eyes averted up toward the ceiling. Though, for all he knew, he could be staring right at Hux and he wouldn’t know it. His legs were slowly pushed apart, and his coat unbuttoned in the front. Hux was making quick work with discarding his clothes, tossing them. It was strange to watch it happen, nothing to be seen manipulating the clothes, but away they flew anyway. Ben shivered as the chill of Hux’s body settled over him as he was laid back on the mattress, and he could already feel arousal pooling in his gut. He gripped at the holey sheets under him and spread his legs. His skirt and panties were pulled down roughly, and Hux’s lips began to descend down his chest, over his stomach. He paused here, kissing at his skin, worshiping it. Ben shuddered, hips canting upward slightly. 

Outside, thunder rumbled again, closer this time. Ben’s moans seemed almost timed to the storm. And Hux took the chance to duck between his legs and pry his cheeks apart. Ben felt the cold tongue penetrate him, and he could hardly believe that he was being eaten out by a ghost. Hux was generous with his time, letting the minutes crawl by as Ben writhed against the bed. His legs drew up, knees bent, and he cried out in bliss. His cock laid hard on his abdomen, and Ben reached down to stroke it a few times. 

Hux’s tongue pressed far into him, circled around, paid love to every inch it could reach. Kylo’s toes curled in his shoes, boots that hadn’t been pulled off of him. He came, splattering his own belly with his release, white, hot, sticky. He moaned, Hux’s tongue departing from him. “Can-can-” He was panting heavily, body relaxing against the mattress. His legs fell down, the tension leaving him as the orgasmic high descended on his brain. Hux seemed to hold his legs open though, kept the view, Ben thought. 

“What?” Hux kissed his stomach again, sending cold shivers through his entire body. 

“Can you kiss me?” 

Ben’s breath caught in his throat, because suddenly Hux was on him, kissing him. Their hips slotted together. Ben closed his eyes and pretended it wasn’t a ghost on top of him, but a man. A misunderstood and lonely man, just like he was. He was cold, he was invisible. But he was there, physical, absolutely a part of the world. Ben let out a loud gasp of surprise when Hux shoved his cock inside him without warning. 

Ben kept his hands gripped in the sheets as Hux fucked him. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, not wanting to see the void above him and break his fantasy. Hux was direct, angling his hips just right, hitting his prostate with every powerful thrust. The bed creaked and groaned under him, their bodies rocking together as the storm descended in full force and rain began to pour. Hux’s nails bit into his thighs, and Ben’s cock hardened again. 

His teeth chattered when Hux pulled away, lips on Ben’s neck now. He couldn’t help but shiver as the ghost’s cold tongue swirled over his skin. “Ah, fuck! Harder!” Hux complied, pinning him against the mattress and stealing his breath away once again. Ben groaned every time Hux’s hips snapped forward, sending his cock piercing deep into him. He felt like Hux was occupying every inch of him, and it wasn’t surprising when he spilled onto his own stomach again. 

Hux wasn’t done. 

Ben found himself flipped onto his stomach, and Hux pressed deeper inside him, somehow impossibly deeper. His knees were propped up on the mattress, and Hux held his hips to keep him from slumping down. Ben let out a whine, tears pricking in his eyes as his oversensitive hole was continually bombarded. 

“Hux, Hux, ah!” Ben screamed out over the rumble of thunder, his body so cold he could barely feel anything anymore. Hux grunted and came inside him, leaving Ben to shiver as the release dripped down inside his ass. As soon as Hux released him, Ben flopped onto his side and panted softly, shuddering all over, his eyes large and blissed out. He didn’t remember opening them, but now he could see the room once again. 

Fingers pushed hair off of his cheek and tucked it behind his ear. He smiled at the gesture, then slowly sat up again. Wincing, he reached down to feel his gaping, sensitive hole, and he marveled at the cum that dripped out onto his fingers. He wiped it off onto the sheets, then scrambled off the bed and reached to grab his panties. Thunder rumbled, loud enough to seemingly rattle the entire house, and he dropped the skimpy fabric, swallowing thickly. 

“You can’t walk home alone in that,” Hux said, his voice coming from somewhere across the room. He seemed to have moved away, and Ben could already feel it warming up a bit without Hux being essentially on top of him. 

“Yeah,” he said, then sat back down on the bed. “Mom is going to kill me. But...I’ll stay here tonight. If you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t. Go sleep on the couch, in front of the fire. It’ll be better for you.” 

He nodded, then reached to gather up his clothes. He ended up just putting the panties on, and he slung everything else onto his arm and picked up the candle to walk back downstairs. The fire was still going and he sighed in relief as it’s warmth licked up his bare legs and chest. He dumped the clothing onto the floor and blew out the candle before laying down. 

It was a lovely sight to watch the crackling fire as his brain began to shut down, lulling into sleep. He heard a few keys played, then a soft ballad started. The song was familiar, but he was asleep before he could truly identify it. It was a long night, but the fire remained strong and warm, and he didn’t feel uneasy being in this house anymore. It wasn’t his home. It wouldn’t be his home. But he didn’t see it as Sherman’s most famous haunted house anymore. He saw it for what it was. The place of tragedy and beauty. 

When Ben stirred back to consciousness the next morning, he quickly stood up and put on his clothing. It was a good idea to not have slept in them, at the very least. “Hux?” he questioned, looking around the living area. He walked over to look up at the second story, unsure what exactly he was expecting to see. There was nothing. The fire was out again, but he could see the sunlight shining through the bottom crack of the front door, and after he received no answer from Hux, he left to start the trek back home. 

It stung a little to be ignored, he would admit. After all, he felt like they had connected the night before. He knew one thing for certain, he’d be back. Turning to look back at the house, he wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing at his arms. “I wish...I could see you,” he said, then let out a soft breath. “I wish we could really be together, that you could give me answers. I don’t know if you can hear me out here, but...if you can, I’ll be back soon.” Ben hoped Hux heard that, and he turned to walk away, back home again. 

* * *

  
  


“Benjamin Organa-Solo, where the hell have you been all night?” 

Ben closed the front door behind him and turned to lock it, then he laid his forehead on the front door and listened to his mom’s footsteps walking toward him. “I got stuck somewhere last night when the rain came down, so I decided to stick it out. I’m sorry. If I had a phone, then maybe I could have called you.” 

She frowned at him, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with his answer. “Do you know how worried I was? Do you have any idea? What friend were you with. I know they all have cellphones that you could have borrowed.” 

“Mom...I wasn’t with a friend. It’s fine. You’ve never worried like this before.” 

“Yes. Yes, I have Ben. I worry about you every time you walk out that door. But you’re getting older, and you...you can’t leave me wondering where you are all night, okay? You need to let me know what your plan is before you leave. Now, I drove to the diner when the rain started up to try and pick you up, and you weren’t there.” 

Ben shrugged, then he looked down and began walking into the living room. He tossed his coat onto the sofa then slumped down next to it, sighing with annoyance. “I went to the Hux house,” he admitted, softly, biting his lip. “I...had questions. About what happened there. I thought there might be answers somewhere in there.” 

“You...you went inside that place?” Leia followed after him, standing right in front of him. Her eyes were as hard as ice as she looked at him. Her lips were drawn in worry. “Ben, that place is condemned! You could have gotten hurt, if-if the stairs had fallen through. Or what if there’d been someone squatting there? They might have robbed you, hurt you.” 

“Mom, I genuinely don’t think even the bravest squatters would stay in that place.” 

“Ben. Don’t crack wise at me right now.” 

“Right. Sorry.” He looked away, rubbing at his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood for this conversation. 

“Well. Did you get the answers you were looking for?” she asked, and he could tell the question was rhetorical. She was angry with him, wanting him to explain something that he didn’t have the words for. Why he would lie to her face then run off to that place anyway. He didn’t know. It was an obsession, and interest. He didn’t know how to put it into words. 

“Yes, I did,” he said, wondering if he should tell her he’d met the infamous ghost of Armitage Hux, or if she’d think he was lying or doing drugs. “I found pictures. Of students that Hux taught on the piano, and...there was music sheets… The piano plays beautifully, even though it’s so old.” He scratched at his arm. “I found a picture of Dad. He was one of Hux’s students. Did he ever tell you that?” 

Leia blinked at him in surprise, then she nodded her head. “Yeah. He told me all about that when, um. When we first got married.” 

“Why didn’t he ever tell me? Tell anyone?” 

She shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. “Ben...you have to understand, this all happened so long ago. By the time he came back here, it was ancient history. Yeah, there’s all the urban legends, but...Ben, baby, he wasn’t just a student of Mr. Hux’s. He watched him die.” 

“I know.” Ben stood up, scraping his hand back through his hair. “I just want to understand...he never told me or anyone else. Just you. Why didn’t he say something when I came home in middle school telling scary stories about the child killing cannibal that lived in the woods? Why did he never try to defend him? Why did none of his old piano students defend him? Everyone just let that man be killed for no reason, Mom.” 

“How...Ben, how do you know all of this? Just from a photo album?” 

“I...I don’t know how to explain it,” he said, then walked over to the window and looked outside. “I...I saw it. When I was in the house, it was like I was there that day. I saw Dad...but he was a child, hiding under the piano while these men hung Hux from the bannister. I saw it.” His voice broke. “And you can’t say that I just hallucinated it, either! Because how would I know what happened to have my brain make it up?” 

Leia stared at him for a moment, then she slowly sat down on the couch. She seemed to be having a hard time with this, her eyes looking everywhere but directly at him. “Ben, your father...he didn’t want you to be afraid to live here. He never told you the truth, because the men who committed that murder, some of them are still alive, living in this town. He never wanted you to feel like you couldn’t be yourself.” 

Ben turned around, looking at his mother through tear-filled eyes. “Shouldn’t that have been my decision? I mean, I’ve run all over this town, dressed like this!” He motioned to himself, then swiped his wrist over his eyes. “I’m surprised no one grabbed me up and hung me, just so that they could get rid of another damn queer!” He turned and stormed back into his room. 

“Ben! Ben, wait!” 

He slammed the door shut, ignoring his mother, and he threw himself face first on the bed and began to sob. It all felt a bit like a betrayal. His father knowing that these dangerous people existed, his mother too. And they came here, gave birth to him here, raised him here. And they let him hear every horrible story about Hux and never even tried to dissuade the rumors. They’d never fed into them, but Ben wanted more than that. And...well, maybe he was hurt about something else, too. 

Ghosts were real. He knew that now. They could start fires and light candles and open doors and talk from beyond the grave. Where was his dad? Why hadn’t he said goodbye, if he could?

Ben stayed in his room all day, bored out of his skull but not wanting to go and face up to his mom and her probing questions. He was bothered by things that were way out of his control, and he felt entirely out of his element. Maybe Hux was right. Maybe he did need to get the hell out of town. 

Around dinnertime, a knock came at the door, and he got up to open it. His mom stood there with a plate of pasta. It was their olive branch, and he quickly put on a sweater and went out to the table to eat with her. They didn’t talk much; she seemed aware that he was still upset. It was nice, though. He got to sit there and not think about things and just enjoy a meal with the only family he had left. His eyes kept trailing to the empty chair across from him, though. Where his dad had always sat. It was horrible, staring at it, wishing desperately for him to still be there. Harboring anger that the man hadn’t stayed behind as a ghost to say goodbye probably wasn’t healthy. 

“Mom…” He pushed the last few bites around with his fork, not having a big appetite right now anyway. 

“Yes, honey?” 

“If I tell you the truth, do you promise you won’t think I’m entirely mental?” 

She sighed. “Ben, you can tell me anything. You know that.” 

He hesitated, then looked at her. “The house, Hux’s house, it’s actually haunted. Like, his ghost is actually there, and I actually talked to him. He told me...I mean, he showed me what happened. I don’t know how. It was like a vision or something. And he led me to the photo album, and he played me music on the piano, and he didn’t want me walking home in the rain last night, so I stayed with him.” 

She stared at him, and in his rush to get everything out in the open, he’d completely forgotten to take stock of her reaction. It wasn’t good. She shook her head and stood up, grabbing his plate and fork away from him and heading into the kitchn to the sink. “I don’t have time to listen to ghost stories. You don’t have to tell me the truth if you don’t want to, but don’t make things up like you’re still five years old.” 

“Mom! I’m not making it up!” 

“Yes. You are. And I’m tired of it, Ben.” She gave him one last exasperated look before going to the kitchen to clean up. 

He stared at the table for a moment, unsure what to do now that he knew his mother wouldn’t believe a word he said about Hux. He stood up slowly, then went to the storage room in the hallway. His mother had put the lockbox on the very top shelf with the hopes he wouldn’t be able to get it. But he had grown somewhat since his dad had died, and Ben was able to pull the box down quite easily He jimmied the lock open, took the gun out, and he stared at it for a few minutes. The decision was already made, though. He tucked it into his waistband and pulled his sweater over the top of it. He left the lockbox in the hallway, then headed to the front door. He could still hear the water running in the kitchen, so he left without saying anything to her. 

* * *

The walk to the Hux house was quiet and fraught with terrible thoughts. He continuously tripped on things, his mind a million miles away. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything he was physically doing. Maybe he should have left a note or something. Maybe he should have given his mom one last hug. But he didn’t want to be stopped. There were questions he had, and one way to answer them. 

The house was chilly as he walked in, and Ben burrowed down in the sweater to try and stay warm. The fire didn’t start as it had before, and he looked around for a few minutes. “Hux?” he asked, his voice echoing out into the empty abode. It was a lonely sound. He walked over to the stairs and started going up them. Ben frowned, calling out for the ghost a few more times before he pushed the door to the bedroom open. He received no answer, and it made him feel a bit...stupid for coming here. He didn’t know if the ghost wanted anything to do with him in actuality, or if maybe it had just been sex. He felt like Hux was avoiding him. 

“Hux...I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he said, turning in a slow circle inside the bedroom. “I mean...I...I need answers about what it’s like on your side of things. I need to find my dad and ask him why.” He rubbed at his face, then went to sit on the bed. Ben looking down at his legs, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “I don’t have anyone else to go to. My...my friends, they abandoned me in here when they got scared, my mom won’t listen to me, and...I don’t have my dad anymore.” 

He waited for any sort of response. For the familiar cold to wash over him. But there was nothing. He felt alone. Ben reached into his waistband and pulled out the gun. He ran his fingers over the smooth metal. His dad kept it in the house for defense, but his mom had always hated guns. That’s why it was put up. But, there was one bullet still loaded in it. 

Ben blinked, tears in his eyes. “I...I want to see you. I want to see Dad. And I don’t want to be in this town anymore.” 

He clicked the safety off. 

A cold rush against the back of his neck preceded the words, “Ben, don’t…” 

He let out a quiet sob, then wiped at his eyes. “I have to. I have to…” He lifted the gun, but a pressure on his arm pushed it back down. He didn’t know how to handle a weapon. He’d never even held the gun before. His fingers were placed clumsily, one wrapped around the trigger. If he flinched hard enough, it would go off. 

“Ben. This isn’t right.” 

“Why? Why did you ignore me? Why did you ignore me when I came in? When I left this morning? You didn’t say anything!” He sniffled. Tears were cutting down his face quickly now. “You…you just wanted to fuck me and send me off on my way? Or...or what?” 

He heard a sigh, cold breath ghosting over his ear. The pressure on his arm relented, but Ben didn’t try to lift the gun again. He was having trouble breathing through the sobs, and a kiss to the back of his neck didn’t help. Hux wasn’t answering his questions. He was avoiding them. Ben hated that he couldn’t see him, face him. He hated that they were right next to each other, but still distant despite that. They were separated by the veil of life and death. Ben wiped at his cheek again, and his tears were running black with his mascara. 

“Talk to me!” he demanded, lifting the gun a bit. “Talk to me, now! I want answers! Why did you ignore me? Why didn’t my dad come to say goodbye?” 

“How could I possibly know the answer to that?” Hux pressed a hand to his back, and Ben shuddered all over. He liked the cold. It was growing familiar to him. He shut his eyes and relaxed back into the pressure on his back. “I ignored you because...this...it isn’t right. I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for a connection, Ben. I didn’t know that you would keep coming back here. That you would become comfortable having a dead lover. You are young. Your entire life is laid before you, and now you’re trying to give it all up to spend eternity here. With me. I’m not worth that. No one is.” Ben sobbed harder at Hux’s explanation, even as kisses were placed on the back of his neck. “And your father wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, either.” 

“But...he should have let me know he was still around. He should have stayed around! Me and my mom are all alone now.” 

Ben found the gun to be such an easy way out. An easy way to end the terrible side of life and try something different. He could be with Hux, find out why his dad had left them instead of staying around to haunt the house. “Is it...is it because of where he died?” he asked. “Can he not leave the hospital?” 

“No...no, I don’t think that has anything to do with it,” Hux said. “He probably moved on. Were you there when he died?” 

Ben nodded. “I held his hand. It was a heart attack, but he lived for a few more days after on life support.” 

“Then...he got to say his goodbyes, didn’t he? Why would he need to stick around? I’m here because I’m not at peace. Your father is. That’s not something to be upset about. Or angry about. He’s somewhere better now. You should...you can be sad, but you should be happy that he didn’t die like I did. Because how I died is why I’m stuck here. If you pull the trigger, you’ll be stuck here, too.” 

Ben felt pressure on his arms again, holding them down, but he fought against the hands this time and lifted the gun. He pressed it under his chin. Ben didn’t know how he should shoot himself to actually die. He didn’t know if this was the best way to do it. He shut his eyes. “I’m going to find him!” He couldn’t believe that his dad would be happy and content to move on without him and his mom. 

“Ben, no!” 

The gun went off as Hux jerked his arm to the right, and Ben felt a hot, jagged line of pain shooting through his shoulder. He fell against the bed, shaking all over as the cold weight of the ghost pressed down against him. “Ben! Ben!” The shouting sound narrowed and stretched, and he blinked his eyes in very slow, deliberate bursts. The edges of his vision blackened. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. 

With blood loss, the pain faded, and Ben felt himself ebbing up and down in the bliss of near-death. His eyes closed, and he let himself go, ignoring the screaming ghost who tried to wake him. And finally, he was out of his own body, standing across the room, then at the window, then in the living room. He seemed to move between places instantly, with no actual movement. It was odd seeing things through freshly dead eyes. Everything seemed at once more vibrant and less real. He touched the piano, but his hand went right through it. He couldn’t interact. He felt like he wandered the living room for days, trying to touch each object he saw, with no luck. It was mere seconds. 

He glanced over to see Hux lounging on the couch, his head tilted back, eyes shut. Ben walked to him slowly, and he glanced down at his hands, his arms. The sweater he wore was still soaked in blood. His own blood. “Why...why am I covered in blood and you’re not?” he asked. 

“Because you’re still new,” Hux said. “Just be lucky you didn’t get stuck in a loop reliving it.” His voice was sour, but firmer than it had been when he was whispering at him through the veil. For the first time, Ben realized just how cutting his accent was, how pompous he sounded. “Are you happy now, Ben? Is this what you wanted?” Hux’s eyes turned him, sharp and the color of ice over a frozen lake. 

“N-no,” he stuttered, slowly wrapping his arms around himself. He felt so cold. He felt empty. “How do I find my dad?” 

“Your dad isn’t here, you stupid boy!” Hux stood up, and the fireplace flared up as his anger ignited it. Ben stepped back. There was no weight to his motions. Blood dripped from his shoulder, endlessly, like there was an infinite pool of it inside him. “I told you that killing yourself wouldn’t solve anything! You’re not going to get your answers here! And now your own my plain of existence and I...I hate to see you here.” Hux’s eyes finally softened. “If you thought I would be happy, you were wrong.” 

“Well...even if I can’t find Dad, then...we can be together, right?” 

Hux sighed. “Does that matter? You’ve known me for three days, Ben. All of your friends, your mother, they’re going to have to put you in the ground, bury you, mourn you.” 

“Are you calling me selfish?” he asked, tears in his eyes again. 

“No. No… I think you’re a depressed young man… But considering what you’re doing to other people isn’t a bad thing, Ben. You stole a gun from your mother’s home and brought it here. She’s going to figure out what your plan was eventually.” 

“What are you saying?” 

The door opened. Ben turned and saw his mother walk into the house. Watching her, it was like she was on the other side of water. The view was murky and rippled. Ben squinted at her, his feet carrying him toward her. “Ben!” she called out, and he could hear the tremor in her voice. She started up the stairs. 

Ben turned back to Hux, his eyes wide. “She’s going to find me up there?” he asked, choking realization in his throat. He never thought it would be his mother. He never imagined that she would have to see this. Hux nodded at him, his face solemn. Ben turned and ran after his mother, screaming. “Mom! Mom! Don’t go up there! Don’t! Don’t go!” 

He followed her up the stairs, then looked at Hux who sat on the bannister, watching them. “She can’t hear you, Ben. She can’t hear either of us. There’s nothing you can do.” 

“No! I don’t want this!” 

Hux was suddenly behind him, grabbing his arm and turning him around. “I’m sorry...I tried to stop you.” He put his hands on Ben’s face, letting him cry into his shoulder. Ben shut his eyes, sobbing. In the back of his mind, he realized that Hux’s hands didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

His mother screamed from upstairs, and Ben pressed closer to Hux, and his arms encircled him protectively. But the more she screamed, Ben couldn’t bear it. He pulled away, then went up the stairs. He realized he wasn’t walking. He was moving, his feet above the actual steps. Into the bedroom, and he saw his own body, his mother cradling him in her arms. She was covered in his blood, and she pressed her hands to the wound. 

It was odd. Seeing himself. He moved closer, watching as his mother laid him out on the bed and pressed her hand firmly against the hole in his shoulder. She tilted his head, checking for a pulse. “Mom’s a nurse,” he said, talking to Hux who had seated himself on the table at the foot of the bed. “She won’t give up until someone drags her off of me.” 

“Maybe she can still save you, Ben.” 

He glanced over, his eyes teary, then shook his head. “I’m a ghost now.” 

“You’re on the threshold. Perhaps, is all I’m saying.” 

Ben went nearer to his mother, biting his lip hard. “Is it wrong for me to hope?” 

“No. I hope, too.” 

Leia’s hands moved expertly. Ben noticed that she wasn’t even crying. Instead, there was a look of pure rage on her face, rage and concentration. It was his mother’s way. She used anger to focus herself. She wrapped his shoulder tightly with torn fabric from the sweater, then dragged him limp body onto the floor. Getting on her knees beside him, her hands went to his chest and she started compressions. “Come on, baby. I know you’re in there,” she said, breathless with effort. 

“I did this to myself. I don’t deserve a second chance,” Ben said, tears leaking down his cheeks. “You didn’t get a second chance. Dad didn’t. I-I don’t deserve it.” 

“You do.” Hux was behind him, suddenly, arms wrapping around him. “Ben, look at her. Look at your mother. She’s fighting for you. I never had that. No one loved me my entire life. I didn’t have anyone to attend a funeral that never happened. I pushed everyone in my life away, because I was scared of being hurt.” 

“But you were hurt. You were right!” 

“I wasn’t right. I wasn’t. I could have tried to find a community, find people who cared for me. But my fear kept me here. And now I’ll be here for eternity.You don’t have to share that fate, though. You have a mother who loves you, even those brainless friends of yours aren’t so bad. Please. Fight. Live your life.” 

“You’ll be alone again.” 

“Maybe so. But that doesn’t matter now.” 

Ben watched his mother work, watched her breathe air into his lungs, watched her press on his heart until her body slumped. Sweat gathered on her brow, and she had her teeth bared. Ben lifted a hand to his chest, and he could feel pressing against his ribs. His shoulder hurt badly, and the new tears on his face were of pain. He turned to get one last look at Hux, and the man smiled at him. His eyes were shining with tears, and he closed the gap between them for a brief kiss. 

His eyes shut, blackness greeted him behind them. The feeling of pressure on his chest increased, and he grimaced in pain, exhaling. His eyes shot open, and he found his mother’s face over him instead. Disoriented, Kylo coughed a few times, wincing. His shoulder and arm felt like dead weight. His face was sweaty and pale. Leia wrapped him up in her arms, whispering, “Thank God, thank God…” 

An ambulance came after that, though Ben wasn’t all there. He kept slipping in and out of consciousness as the medics put a breathing mask on him, rolled him onto a stretcher. His sweater and shirt were taken off so they could press gauze pads to his gunshot wound. His mother rode along in the ambulance with him, leaning over into his ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He didn’t have the strength to answer her. 

* * *

  
  


It was a long week of surgery, recovery, suicide watch. Ben slept through most of it, and he still wasn’t fully okay after it all. He’d lost a lot of blood, and the wound left him weak. He was taken home though, after his mother threatened to sue the hospital. She didn’t think the ward was all that helpful, and he was glad to be in his own bed again. She stayed with him all the time, trying to be strong. She never asked him why. The therapist did, in one of their first sessions together, and Ben told a half truth. But his mother never did. She acted like...she already knew. 

Ben carefully walked out of his bedroom and down the hallway to the kitchen, where he found his mother baking cookies. He stood and watched for a moment, until she noticed him. “Ben, what are you doing out of bed?” she asked. “You still need to be resting. This isn’t like on TV where wounds like this don’t need time to heal.” 

“I know, Mom.” He sat down at the counter instead, his eyes downcast. His arm was in a sling, and there was so much damn bandaging around his shoulder that he could hardly even feel it. Or, that might be the pain medication. “I was just wondering something. How’d you know I went to Hux’s house?” 

She hesitated, setting aside the rolling pin. “Well, you talked about that place earlier. You said some things, about meeting a ghost. You knew your father had seen...that awful murder. I figured it was the first place to check if you were...going to do something. I knew you had the gun. I knew...I knew you weren’t in a good place. I should have gotten you help after your father died.” 

“It’s not just that,” Ben said. “It’s not just about Dad. I wanted to pretend that it was, but...it’s me. I think that I’m just...I don’t know, depressed?” His lower lip trembled. “I feel so alone, even here with you. I don’t have anyone to talk to. The Rens are...I love them, but we don’t talk about this shit together. It’s too real. It’s easier to just pretend that the real world doesn’t exist when we’re together.” 

Leia wiped her hands on the apron tied about her waist, and she walked around the counter and hugged onto him gently. Ben leaned his head against her shoulder. He was so much bigger and taller than she was, but somehow she could make him feel small. Not in a bad way. “I wish you’d have told me, but...I get why you didn’t.” She kissed his temple gently. “But...you...you clearly didn’t really want to die,” she said. “You shot yourself in the shoulder. So that someone could save you.” 

“I aimed for the head, Mom.” 

“Oh.” Her voice sounded shattered, and she gently swept a hand through his hair. 

“I missed because of Hux.” 

“The...the ghost?” She pulled away from him, and he could see that strained look on her face. She wanted him to drop this, but he needed her to hear him. 

“Mom, he’s really there. He’s suffering, I think. Being all alone. I want to do something to help him find peace. This is important to me.” 

“You’re not going back to that place, Ben.” 

“Okay, but, that’s not what I’m talking about. I need to look at Dad’s stuff. See if he left anything, wrote anything. Like a journal. I want to see if there’s any proof of what he saw that day. If the truth can come out, then...then maybe Hux can be at peace. I can be at peace.” 

His mom put a hand on her hip, lips pursed. “Ben, your obsession with this isn’t healthy.” She was pleading with him, without saying it. 

“Mom...if there’s nothing...then I’ll drop it. I’ll forget about the whole thing, but...I need to at least try to bring this man some peace. He deserves it. Hux didn’t do anything wrong. And maybe...maybe me going to that house, meeting him, him saving me...maybe this all means that I’m meant to help him somehow.” 

Leia thought about it for a second, then she nodded. “Stay here.” She turned and walked down the hallway to her bedroom, and Ben leaned down to lay his head against the counter. He grimaced as this pulled at his shoulder awkwardly, but he didn’t get up. He shut his eyes, trying to relax. Things had been difficult, the hours spent alone, thinking about Hux, wondering if his experience outside of his own body was real or the result of lack of oxygen in his brain. They’d figured he’d been dead for only a few minutes, but it had seemed so much longer than that. 

A few minutes later, Mom emerged and laid a single journal next to his head. Ben sat up and stared at it for a few seconds, then looked at her gratefully. “Is there...there something in here?” 

“Yes. No.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s what you’re looking for, but Han didn’t keep things from his childhood anyway. He left when he was fifteen or sixteen, carrying nothing but a few changes of clothes. But this...this is the only mention of anything that went on in the Hux house, and it’s just a list of names.” 

“Names?” Ben’s eyes widened in realization. “Names. Names.” He opened up the journal and flipped through a dozen empty pages. In the middle of it, there was one page with writing on it, as if he’d been trying to hide the names. Two lists. Ben read them out. “John Simon, Abigail McMan, Lilly Smith, Carter McMan. Chelsea Rhines. All of these are students of Hux’s. I saw their photos in the album Hux showed me. And...these…” He looked to the second list. “Greg Simon, Clarence Smith, Timothy McMan, and Sylvester Rhines. They must be their fathers. They thought that Hux was….a predator, because he was gay, so they killed him. They all came out together to do it.” 

“And the sheriff covered it all up.” 

“I...I know this name, though. Sylvester Rhines? Where do I know that from.” 

Leia sighed, and she rubbed at her eyes. “He’s...he’s the mayor. He was elected back in the eighties for the first time, and he’s just kept getting reelected every year. No one ever really challenges him, either.” She tapped the sheriff’s name. “He died last year. I know that. Clarence Smith is in a nursing home, and I’m not sure about Greg Simon. Your father kept track of them as subtly as he could, but he was no cop or detective.” 

“How does someone commit a murder, a gruesome murder, then end up as the most powerful man in the city? How did any of them live with themselves all these years?” Ben shut the journal with a sigh. There was nothing he could do with this list. It was hopeless. He’d thought, maybe, he could fix this, bring the truth to light. He’d been stupid to think that he could. “Thank you...but, this doesn’t help. I’m just going to have to tell Hux that there’s nothing I can do.” 

“Ben…” Leia reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear. “You don’t have to save the world. You’re only nineteen. No one expects you to fix the injustices in society.” 

“But, I wanted to help.” 

“Maybe you should focus on yourself right now.” She stepped closer to him, rubbing his back. “Why...why don’t you go and try to rest up a bit? I’ll finish these cookies, and then I’ll change your bandage for you. And, maybe you can call your friends to come over for a visit.” 

“You’d let the Rens all in here at the same time?” he asked, smiling a bit. It didn’t really touch his eyes. 

Leia sighed, dramatically. “I think I can allow it...just this once.” 

Ben hugged his mother again before getting up and making his way slowly back to the bedroom. He laid down, careful about not putting pressure on his shoulder. Despite his mother comforting him, he couldn’t even begin to get over just how useless he felt. He had to have some reason for being here, for Hux saving him, for getting to come back. Maybe his mental state wasn’t quite as stable as his mother had convinced the therapist it was. 

A shudder went up his spine. Ben opened his eyes, having only closed them moments ago, and he let out a soft breath. The temperature had seemingly dropped in an instant, and that could only mean one thing. Conscious of his mother being only a few rooms away, Ben whispered, “Hux?” 

“I’m here.” 

Ben smiled, and he felt cold lips against his own. Kissing back, he couldn’t help the excited shiver that ran through him. “I didn’t think I was going to...going to get to be anywhere near you for a long time,” he said, voice low. 

“I thought you’d still be in a hospital. I’ve spent the last two days in one, combing through every room. I’ve not left my home in...decades. It’s odd not being there. Things are murkier. I don’t know the place as well. You saw what it was like on the other side, when the scenery is fresh.” Hux paused, kissing him again briefly. “That is, if you even remember being on the other side of the veil.” 

“I…” Ben hesitated, letting Hux kiss him all over his face and neck. “I remember a bit. It’s foggy. I know that...that you convinced me to come back. But I wouldn’t have been able to without my mom. She saved me. You did, too.” 

“Hmm. Well, you’re too young to be dead.” Hux wrapped his arms around Ben, laying near him, and Ben squeezed his eyes shut to enjoy the proximity they had. It was freezing, and after a bit, his teeth clattered together. He tried to control the shivers, but he was unable. 

“Hux,” he whispered, his voice dropping even lower. HIs face turned downward. “I tried to find something, some proof of what happened to you. I wanted the truth to get out there, so that the world would know. All I found out is that...most of the men who hurt you are gone, or nearly gone. One is in a nursing home. The only one who’s even still around much is the mayor. There’s nothing I can do.” His lower lip quivered. “I’m sorry. I wanted to bring you peace.” 

“Oh, Ben…” Hux stroked his hair, and Ben shivered as the ghostly hand worked down to his neck and cradled the back of it. “You’re too good for this town. Your heart is pure… I don’t need you to bring me peace. I have to accept what has happened to me, and that has nothing to do with you, or with anybody else. See, in places like this, no matter what you say or do, no one will care that their mayor happens to be a killer. Some may even celebrate him still. The world is a fucked up place.” 

“That’s sorta what mom said.” 

“Hey...listen to me. If you keep worrying about this, you’ll make yourself ill with the calamity of it all. I know that you tried, and that’s all that matters. It’s not your job to bring me peace.” 

“You saved me….” 

“You saved yourself by deciding that you wanted to live. That’s the most powerful choice a person like you can make in this world. To face the hatred that stems from our queerness, from the things that define who we are. The first time I saw you, walking around in that slinky, tight dress. Makeup and hair, dressed up beautifully...I thought to myself, this boy is the bravest soul I’ve ever met. How many times have you been punched, knocked down?” 

Ben laughed humorlessly. “Too many to count.” 

“How many times have you gotten back up?” 

The question struck him in an odd way, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. A cold finger swiped it away, then kissed the spot it had occupied. Hux gently laid him on his back, kissing him softly, their lips moving together in tandem. 

Footsteps approached the door, and Ben froze, swallowing a little bit. The door opened, and he sat up, feeling Hux pressing against his side. His mother smiled, then settled the fresh cookies from the oven onto the nightstand. “They’re warm and chocolatey, just like you like them, baby.” She dragged her cardigan tighter around her body. “It’s cold in here. I’ll turn up the heat. Can I get you anything else?” 

He shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He smiled a little, the expression more genuine than it had been for awhile. “I’d like to just sleep for the rest of the day, I think. Can I have friends over tomorrow?” 

She nodded. “That sounds good to me.” Leaning in, she kissed his cheek softly, then turned for the door. As she walked, Ben saw a shiver go up her spine, and she glanced around, eyes a bit wide. “Huh. Sleep well, Ben. I’ll come to check on you later.” 

“Okay,” he said, then laid back down when she closed the door. “Are you messing with my mother?” he asked, eyes moving around, wondering exactly where Hux was. He could still feel his cold presence by his side. 

“No. It wasn’t me.” 

Ben lifted an eyebrow, then turned back onto his side, and he grabbed a cookie off the plate with his good arm. He chose not to think of it for now. “Why can’t she hear you, and I can?” 

“I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to be able to hear me. No one else ever could.” 

“Do you think it’s because we had sex?” 

Hux chuckled, then kissed him softly. “Perhaps.” 

“What are you going to do now? Mom’s not letting me out of the house for a long time, and...I don’t know when she’s going to trust me to be alone. I can’t do anything to actually help you, so I don’t know if you have a real reason to stick around.” 

“Of course I have a reason to stick around. I’m not going back to that old house when I have something far more important to focus on.” 

Ben blushed a bit, and he smiled when Hux nuzzled under his neck. “So you’ll be around?” 

“I’ll be around,” Hux said, and it was a promise not to be broken. 


End file.
